Luke Cage Returns
by capyle
Summary: A sequel to Luke Cage: Hero For Hire. Everything is going well for Luke and Jessica Jones as they take their jobs and their relationships to new levels. All of this is threatened, however, when Zebidiah Killgrave (aka The Purple Man) arrives in New York under orders from the Maggia. Can they survive his sadistic mind games? If so, what will be left of their psyches?
1. Chapter 1

**Moscow, 1979**

Two USSR soldiers march down a dark corridor. Between them is a boy, no older than ten. The boy looks at the soldiers and with terrified curiosity but he does not run. At the end of the hallway, they enter a darkened room filled with equipment: an examination chair, operation table, and in the middle of the room is a salene tank filled with a purple liquid. The soldiers force the boy into a chair and quickly restrain him with leather straps before a scientist in a labcoat enters the room and takes a look at him.

"You are Zebediah Killgrave, yes?," the scientist asks in Croatian.

"Yes," the boy answers nervously, also in Croatian.

"Can you speak Russian?"

"No, sir."

The scientist nods in approval. A few moments later, a Soviet general enters the room. The soldiers salute him as he passes by and takes a look at the boy. He says nothing to him but instead, turns to the scientist and asks in Russian, "This is the boy?". The scientist nods. The general takes another look at the boy before continuing, "He can't speak Russian, no?".

"Not yet General, so speak as freely as you like," the scientist hands a file to the general, "Zebediah Killgrave. Born in Rijeka, Yugoslavia. His parents were anarchists who were arrested and executed five years ago. Since that time, Zebidiah has spent his life in an orphanage."

The general checks his files, "He's intelligent."

"Extremely. His test scores were nearly perfect despite his upbringing. He's still very young so the proper conditioning could produce a sufficient operative."

"What if this process fails?"

"He has no known relatives. No one will miss him."

The general hands the file back to the scientist, "I'll approve of your experiment and alert the Kremlin. When will the process be finished?"

"Three months, perhaps?"

"Then I'll return in three months," the general quickly turns and leaves. The scientist turns and nods to one of the soldiers standing behind Zebidiah and a moment later, a needle is quickly inserted into his neck. Zebidiah barely lets out a scream before everything goes black.

**Three months later...**

Zebidiah floats inside the salene tank. He is naked except for a pair of briefs and an oxygen tank strapped to his face with a tank on his back. Several needles have been inserted into various parts of his body and the nearby monitors check his vital signs. The scientist watches Zebidiah sleep until the general comes back into the room, followed by two guards.

"Good evening, General," the scientist exclaims.

"Is he ready?"

"I was just about to empty the tank."

"Then don't let me stop you."

The scientist pulls a lever and the needles are quickly retracted out of Zebidiah's body in a way that does not look particularly painless. He opens the bottom part of the tank and the purple fluid spills out into a drain. The men wait patiently as the tank empties and Zebidiah's body is left leaning against the glass. His eyes begin to open, his vision blurred and his hearing muffled as he barely makes out the shapes and sounds of the scientist and the general talking to one another. A few minutes later, he is out of the tank and laid on an operation table. A bright light shines over him as the scientist examines him.

"He seems to be healthy, General," the scientist tells him.

"What sort of results will we expect from this process? We have spent a great deal of money so I trust the experiment was a complete success? We have our spy?"

Zebidiah searches the room, his eyes finally resting on the solider next to the table.

"We still need to run the proper tests but everything seems in order," the scientist continues.

Zebidiah's hand weakly reaches out to the soldier.

"Let's hope so," the General tells him, "Some of the things you claim he can do sound far-fetched, honestly."

Zebidiah continues to reach for the soldier, tenderly sliding his fingers across his wrist. The soldier looks down at him curiously.

"It seems outside the realm of possibility but I assure you, it will work," the scientist tells him.

Zebidiah grabs the soldier's wrist tightly. The soldier tries to pull away, but Zebidiah holds firm, his eyes locking on the soldier's eyes intensly. He stops struggling almost immediately finally also locks eyes with the boy. Meanwhile, the second soldier watches curiously.

"It had better," the general begins, "This program came at a great price. Our country is not what it once was. We need this to work."

Zebidiah and the soldier lock eyes. Purple veins begin to emerge along Zebidiah's face and they are soon followed by dark, purple and black splotches that almost look like bruises. The second soldier stationed at the door cocks his head ot the side as he notices something strange. The scientist and general, meanwhile, are unaware.

"General, I promise, once he recieves proper training... we will have the perfect weapon against the West. The Americans will destroy themselves from inside out before they even realize what we've done here."

The soldier continues to stare at Zebidiah as his other hand slides onto the sidearm holstered on his belt. The second soldier slowly raises a finger toward him, "Er... General?". The General turns to him, "Yes, what is it?". The soldier pulls his gun and fires, killing the general in the next second. The scientist backs away quickly but he is shot next as the soldier turns to him, wide-eyed and mechanical in his movements. At this point, the second soldier has his gun drawn and fires a shot, hitting his partner in the chest. Despite the bloody wound, the soldier does not react and instead, turns and fires a final shot which kills the soldier at the door.

Zebidiah calmly sits up and surveys the carnage. The soldier stumbles back and blinks as he comes to his senses. First, he touches the bloody wound in his chest. Horrified and in pain, he drops to his knees. Zebidiah's bare feet touch the ground as he stands, gazing down at the dying soldier. They lock eyes one final time before Zebidiah turns and slowly walks to the door; behind him, the soldier finally falls over dead. Zebidiah is gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Brooklyn, NY**

**Modern Day**

It's late and the streets are empty. A lone figure shuffles his way through the cleared sidewalk, hands in his pocket and his head down as he wears a hoodie and baseball cap with the shadows obscuring his face. The apartments surrounding him are empty as he makes his way toward a dark alley. Once he turns the corner, he faces a door with a single light above it. Beside the door is a large man in a leather jacket. As the lone figure approaches, he steps in his path, "Whatchu want, man?". The lone figure murmurs something under his breath as he keeps his head down. The man in the leather jacket leans in, "What's that?". The lone figure speaks up only slightly, "Said I came to see Big Ben." The man in the leather jacket shrugs, "Big Ben? I don't know no Big Ben." The lone figure says nothing as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wad of cash. The man in the leather jacket snatches it away from him and looks at it under the light, "This all you got man?," he waits a moment and finally decides to let him in, "It's cool, I guess. Hope you got more on you, otherwise, you gonna lose it all in about five minutes." He opens the door, "Get your sorry ass down there." The lone figure says nothing as he makes his way through the door and down dark stairs. At the foot, he comes to another door.

He opens it and comes inside a basement illumanated by bright lights. Music plays, scantly-clad women with drink trays pass by, and a large roulette wheel is in the center of the room. Behind that, is a blackjack table. At the other tables littering the area, men sit and play poker. At the farthest wall, a man sits at a booth, flanked by bodyguards. He wears a long coat and shades. This is Big Ben. The lone figure walks into the center of the room, pulls his hood down, removes the hat, and reveals the face of Luke Cage.

Cage surveys the room for a few seconds, notices Big Ben at the other end, and puts his fingers up to his lips; then he whistles loudly, getting the attention of everyone in the underground casino. They immediately stop playing and talking as they turn to see Cage in the center of the room. A few of them quickly but silently start for the exit.

"Can I have your attention please," Cage announces, "Ya'll need to pack up your stuff, get whatever money you have left, and take off. I'm only here for one man and that's 'Big' Ben Donovan. If you ain't Big Ben, count yourself lucky."

Big Ben rises to his feet with his bodyguards right behind him, "Is that Luke Cage?"

"Nah, it's Captain America. Who the hell do you think it is?"

His bodyguards pull guns from their jackets. "I think Captain America is about to get shot," Big Ben sneers.

"Seriously, people need to stop bringing guns to a Luke Cage fight," he casually walks around the room toward the roulette wheel, "And what's with you, man?," he motions toward Big Ben, "With the long coat and shades? You look like you just got out of the Matrix." Big Ben's men raise their weapons. In an instant, Cage rips the roulette wheel off and hurls it like a frisbee, taking them out before they have the chance to fire. The poker players behind Cage rise to their feet and also begin to pull weapons from their jackets but they don't make it far before Cage spins, slapping the bottom edge of the table and flips it into their faces, knocking them down along with their drinks, cards, chips, and money. The man with the leather jacket races in from outside and rushes him, only for Cage to grab him by the lapels and hurl him into the blackjack table across the room. Big Ben raises his hands in surrender, "Okay, man. It's cool. It's cool."

The place quiets down again as Cage turns to him, "You have more sense than I thought. When I saw that you wear sunglasses at night, it threw me off." Big Ben quickly drops his hands as two gold-plated guns drop from his long sleeves and into his palms. He raises them and fires. Two bullets bounce off Cage's chest, putting two holes in his hoodie. He looks at the holes, then back at him with disappointment. Big Ben shrugs and drops the guns, "Sorry."

"I don't know if I should kick the crap out of you for the holes in my shirt or the guns," Cage tells him angrily, "I mean, gold-plated guns? You wanna get some guns, then go out and get some guns. What's the point in the gold plating? It's not gonna help the bullets shoot faster. How much those things cost anyway?" A few minutes later, he marches Big Ben outside with his hands tied behind his back.

"So who paid you to come after me, man?," Big Ben asks, "Was it Morgan?"

"Nope."

"The cops?"

"The neighborhood."

Cage brings him around the corner. The once empty streets are now lined by the residents in the nearby apartments. They all step out onto their stoops to watch Cage cart him through their neighborhood. "These people asked you to get your casino out of here and I heard they asked real nicely but you just didn't wanna listen, did you?," he leans in closer, "You no longer got business here. I'll make sure to stop by this area every once in a while. I better not see you."

Big Ben nods, "Alright, man. Whatever you say."

Cage is in front of a parole board the next morning. The head of the board looks over his paperwork, "Well, Mr. Cage, you have done exceptional work. Your business has led to the apprehension of several convicts including an international arms dealer and a super powered terrorist. It says here that you are now being employed by the Rand Corporation?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, you're certainly in good hands. You've been more than stable and a great asset to society," the head explains, "Your sentence has already been reduced but you have successfully been on parole for over a year now and have done this country a great service. Keep this up and you're looking at an early release."

"Thank you, sir."

Cage arrives at a small office building, unlocks the door, and goes inside. There, he sits down at a desk that rests across from a chair. It's a small office but he happily looks at the business cards on the desk that has his name printed on them along with the business name: Hero For Hire. Jessica Jones enters the office with a cake, "Did you get an early release?".

Cage shakes his head and kisses her, "Nah, but maybe next time. The board seems really impressed with me."

She sets the cake down, "That's great. Did you tell Danny?".

"Danny's off in Asia," Cage explains, "Colleen and Misty are with him. By the time they come back, I'll probably be set."

He plops down at the desk and Jessica cozies up to him, "Your business is better than ever, you're about to get off parole and you have a beautiful woman in your arms," Jessica tells him happily, "What more do you need?"

"This just about does it," he says with a smile.

"Good because I've been thinking..."

"Oh no."

"What?"

"I always hate conversations that begin with 'I've been thinking'. Especially if they're from a girlfriend."

"Just shut up and listen."

"Alright, sorry."

"I've been thinking about moving in. Y'know, my lease will be up in about three months. There's plenty of room at your place,... so why not?"

"But it's farther away from your office."

"I can take the metro. It's not that bad. So what do you think?"

"I don't know. I mean, I like you. I do, but I don't know if I'm the kind of guy to move in with. I go after some dangerous guys. I've made a lot of enemies. They know where to find me and if they come looking for trouble and find you instead..."

"I get it. I know the dangers."

"There's a difference between knowing the dangers and experiencing them firsthand."

"What do you want out of this relationship?"

"This. I want what we have right now. Isn't that enough?"

"It is... for now. But y'know, I'm a journalist for a major news corporation and it's not entirely a secret that I know you. If the bad guys come after me, they'll come after me."

"Don't talk like that."

"You know it's true, though. If anything, living alone is more dangerous."

"You have a point. I just think it's safer if we keep things a little more casual."

"Well,... promise me you'll think about it at least."

"Yeah, I'll think about."

She kisses him lightly on the lips.


	3. Chapter 3

In Russia, a man stands outside a pedestrian tunnel, apparently waiting for someone or something. He is tall, middle-aged, has dark features and is dressed in a suit. This is Zebidiah Killgrave, now as an adult; his face is clear at the moment, void of any discoloration. He checks his watch and looks left and right. Finally, another man approaches him with a satchel over his shoulder.

Killgrave, who has learned Russian since his time as a boy, raises his hand and smiles, "You must be the contact."

"I know what you are," the Contact answers him in Russian and then eyes Killgrave's hand suspiciously, "There's no way I'm touching you."

"Fair enough," Killgrave puts his hand down and motions for the contact to follow.

They step inside the tunnel and the Contact opens the satchel, handing Killgrave an envelope. "It's all here?," Killgrave asks. "Everything you need to get into the states is there," he responds as Killgrave pulls a fake passport from the envelope, gives it a look, and slides it back in. Killgrave reaches into his jacket pocket and produces his own envelope filled with money, "Well done." As he hands the envelope over, two police officers enter the tunnel and stand behind them.

"Zebidiah Killgrave?," one of them asks.

"Why, yes I am," he tells them happily.

The Contact quickly turns and flees toward the other end of the tunnel but more officers enter and cut him off. After they tackle him, they slap handcuffs on his wrists. The officers standing next to Killgrave pull their guns and point them at his head, "Get on the ground." Killgrave smiles and reaches out, grabbing their wrists; they both freeze as purple veins run through Killgrave's hands. Purple veins and splotches appear on Killgrave's face as well as he smiles sadistically, "Sorry gentlemen, I'm on a mission and you're both in my way," their eyes bulge, "Do me a favor. Kill your friends." Killgrave lets them both go and they step forward, zombie-like as they carry their weapons down the tunnel. The officers at the other end finish restraining Killgrave's contact when they notice their fellow officers approaching. "What are you guys doing?," one of them asks. The two officers raise their guns and the sound of gunfire can soon be heard echoing through the tunnel. Killgrave calmly stands with his back to the wall as he watches the ensuing gunfight, the muzzle flares dancing along the dark walls. The contact stares in disbelief as he watches the officers shoot each other and soon, the final officer drops on the ground beside him. Killgrave walks toward him, stepping over dead bodies as he goes and the discoloration in his skin fades. He eventually stoops down by his contact.

"Killgrave, get me out of here," the Contact pleads, his hands still cuffed behind his back.

Killgrave places two fingers at the base of his neck and splotches and veins appear on his face once more, "I have a better idea."

Police cars race to the tunnel and quickly squeal to a stop outside. Russian officers jump out of their cruisers, guns drawn. Killgrave's Contact soon races out of the tunnel with two police-issued guns in his hands. "He's armed!," an officer shouts and they open fire. At the other end of the tunnel, Killgrave briskly exits and walks across the street where a crowd has gathered due to the sound of gunfire. They ignore him as they try to make sense of the chaos. More squad cars pull up but the officers race toward the tunnel and do not see Killgrave in the crowd. He smiles to himself as the splotches on his face fade away, then continues through the crowd.

Meanwhile, the officers stoop down to check on the Contact who is now wounded but still breathing. "He's still alive," an officer explains, "Someone call a paramedic. Maybe we can get him to tell us where Killgrave is."

A few blocks away, Killgrave casually strolls down a sidewalk as people pass by. He stops once he sees a man standing still while checking his phone.

"Excuse me, do you have a car?," Killgrave asks.

"Huh?," the man diverts his attention, "Yeah, why?"

Killgrave places his hand on the back of his head and smiles politely as the splotches reappear, "I need a ride to the airport."

Roxxon Pharmacutical is located in a tall building in Manhatten, the ROXXON logo proudly reaching across the roof. Jessica Jones walks through a hall along with other reporters who gather in a press room and take their seats. At the front of the room is a podium with Roxxon's logo. Her phone rings and she quickly answers it with, "So, changed your mind about me moving in yet?".

Cage is on the other end of the line, "Come on. Don't be that girlfriend."

"I'm not," she says with a smile, "I am the girlfriend who will find any excuse to torture her boyfriend, though."

"That, I'm okay with," he laughs, "So whatcha doing?"

"I'm at a press conference," she checks her watch, "which should be starting in a few minutes. Roxxon started a pharmaceutical division and the branch manager is about to make a statement."

"Roxxon? Why does that name sound familiar?"

"They had the huge oil spill last year. Their company is also known for fraud."

"Oh, yeah. Great guys."

"It gets better," Jessica leans in and whispers on the phone, "Did you know they have funded South American dictators?"

"Not surprising for an oil company."

"Well, one of those dictators used to buy weapons from a guy calling himself the Bushmaster."

"Wait,... You mean John McIver?"

"Yep, your old boss. What was that organized crime group McIver belonged to?"

"The Maggia?"

"Yeah, that's it. I think there may be a connection."

"Wow. So they're into pharmaceuticals now?"

"Yeah, I'm not sure why an oil company would be interested in branching off into pills, either."

"Keep me posted."

"Sure, babe." A middle aged man approaches the podium and Jessica quickly begins to get ready, "I gotta go. Love ya." "Love ya back," Cage tells her before she hangs up. The middle aged man is short, balding, and somewhat overweight. He is soon joined by other Roxxon executives who stand off to the side. "Thank you, everyone, for coming," he tells the reporters, "Before we begin, I would like to take a quick moment to acknlowedge our executive team and Roxxon director of research Jonah Hale. Thank you, gentlemen," the businessmen wave to the crowd and Quartermaster continues, "As you know my name is Jason Quartermaster and I'm the branch manager of Roxon's pharmaceutical division. We have called this press conference to not just announce our new division but to also put aside any fears and reservations the public may have toward our company. It is true that mistakes have been made in the past but that was the past. We hope that in time, the public will forgive us for these mistakes. With that said, allow me to introduce to you, Roxxon Pharmaceutical." The curtain behind him opens, displaying the new pharmaceutical branch logo. The press applaudes and takes pictures. Quartermaster takes the podium again, "We hope that, with this new division, we can user in a new era in medical drug research. We have dedicated ourselves to fighting sickness and disease as we continue to serve the greater good of the public. We'll be fielding any questions you may have, now."

Jessia Jones raises her hand and as she does so, an executive whispers to Hale. Quartermaster quickly turns the other way and motions toward a different reporter, "Yes?". Jessica takes her seat as the other reporter rises.

"Phil Sheldon, Daily Globe," the older man begins, "What are we to expect from Roxxon Pharmaceutical?"

"Well, we are in the business of caring for the public. That is our number one priority," he begins, "In fact, one of our major projects currently in development is a new drug cocktail that our engineers have been working on. We're actually very excited about it and I have been told it is okay to release this information to the public, once this drug is fully prepared and passes FDA standards, it could mean the end to physical ailments such as arthritis. Any other questions?"

Jessica raises her hand once again. Quartermaster turns and looks as Hale who nods slightly. Quartermaster motions toward her, "Yes?".

"Jessia Jones, The Pulse."

"How do you do, Ms. Jones?"

"Fine, thank you," she holds her recorder up as she speaks, "About this new miracle drug your company is working on, can we get the specifics of how it works?"

"Uh," Quartermaster stammers a bit, "Well, I'm not a scientist. We leave that up to the boys in the lab," this gets a few chuckles from the audience, "But as far as I know, this drug is simply meant to strengthen the body. Other than that, I-I have no idea."

"I just ask because your company has had ethical issues in the past, as you mentioned," the executives begin to stir awkwardly, "so it may be appropriate to -".

"I-I'm positive that when this drug is available to the public... and that may be a long way off,... it will be safe and beneficial," he quickly points to another reporter, "Uh, yes, did you have a question?"

The reporter stands and begins to ask his question. Jessica sits down silently as the Roxxon executives glare at her from the stage.


	4. Chapter 4

There's a knock at the door. Luke Cage answers to see a husky man nearing middle age with a graying beard, dark suit and sunglasses, which he soon removes. "Luke Cage, yes?," he says in a thick Russian accent.

"Uh,... Yeah, I'm Luke Cage."

"Good afternoon Mr. Cage, I am Agent Patkus from the Russian Foreign Intelligence Service. May I come in?"

"You're from the Russian..."

"Foreign Intelligence Service. May I come in?"

"Uh, what's this about?"

"I have come on behalf of the Russian government to enlist your aid," and then he asks once more, "May I come in?"

"Um,... Yeah, sure. Come in."

Cage lets him inside. Agent Patkus takes a look around and, when seemingly satisfied with his surroundings, he sits on the couch. Cage stands by the door, still looking dumbfounded. Patkus smiles and motions toward the chair, "Please, Mr. Cage, have a seat." Cage remains standing, "You know I have an office you could have called, right?".

"Yes, but I have strict instructions to meet you here, in private. We would appreciate your cooperation in keeping this matter confidential."

Cage finally sits down, "Any meeting with a potential client is confidential but I haven't agreed to anything y -"

"You see, there was a very dangerous man operating a criminal organization in Moscow. Two days ago, he left the country and we have reason to believe he is coming here to New York. He should be arriving tomorrow, as a matter of fact. The Russian government wants him."

"Sounds like you need to call the American authorities and work something out."

"The American authorities would likely keep him and ship him off to Guantanamo Bay."

"Probably. What's it to you people? He's out of your hair, either way."

"Because Russia wants him."

"Russia probably wants a lot of things but unless I get some reason to help you, I'm not interested in a case that sounds like it should be handled by the FBI or CIA or someone."

"This man is named Zebidiah Killgrave," Patkus hands Killgrave's photo over to Cage, "He was meant to work for the KGB during the Cold War. He disappeared and, several years later, returned as a major figure in Russian organizaed crime."

"The KGB, huh? I guess you'd rather not let it be known this guy exists."

"I should not be telling you this but if this conversation is confidential... It is confidential, yes?"

"Might as well be."

"The KGB performed experiments a long time ago. Killgrave was such an experiment. He was meant to be a superspy. Instead of performing his duties, he disappeared."

"Disappeared, or escaped?"

Patkus ignores the question, "He returned years later and soon became one of the more dangerous criminals Russia has ever seen."

"What kind of experiments are we talking about?"

"Killgrave's codename was The Purple Man. His skin releases phermones. I'm saying this correctly, no? Phermones?"

"Yeah. Phermones. What do they do?"

"Once he comes into contact with his victims, he can take control of them for a certain amount of time. You see, the phermones allow him complete bodily control. He was called the Purple Man for the temporary bruising it would cause."

"So he didn't like working for the KGB and became a crime boss instead. Tell me about his organization."

"His organization is unique in that he is the only member. He doesn't need to employ anyone if he can simply bend the will of innocent people to do his bidding. As you can see, Mr. Cage, he is quite dangerous."

"I can see that. You say he left the country. What makes you think he's heading to New York?"

"The Russian police were informed that Killgrave was planning to leave the country but no one was sure where he was going or why. They knew he was meeting with a man who forges passports and they tried to intercept them during the deal. Killgrave escaped again but the forger was nearly killed by Moscow police officers. Since Killgrave screwed him over, he was more than happy to tell us where he was going. Of course, Killgrave was able to easily influence his way past airport security and leave the country. We barely had enough time for me to come over here in hopes you would help us."

"And you don't want the authorities over here knowing about all this past KGB stuff?"

"Russia wants this man very badly. We'd rather have as few complications as possible."

"I would love to help you but all this clandestine stuff... I have no idea if this is even legal."

At this moment, Patkus pulls an envelope from his coat and drops it on the coffee table between them. Cage stops and looks at the envelope. Patkus only shrugs, so Cage picks it up and thumbs through it, finding several thousand dollar bills. "This," he begins, "This is -"

"Half a million US dollars, yes. This is your payment. You shall recieve the other half upon completion."

"Wow, look, that is a lot of money. I'd love to take it but I got a good thing going here. I'm almost off parole and I don't want to screw things up."

"What if I told you Killgrave is working for the Maggia?"

"The Maggia?"

"Sure. You are aware of the Maggia, no?"

"Yeah, I have a history with one of its leaders: John McIver. They're dangerous people, but I thought you said Killgrave worked alone."

"He does. The Maggia is an international organization with many families that are mostly autonomous. McIver's operation was only one family within a larger network. Killgrave is just another head that needs to be removed."

"So what's he doing with the Maggia? What are his plans for New York?"

"We'll need to find out," Patkus places a note with a flight number and time on the table, "He is arriving by plane tomorrow afternoon. Bring him to me and no one will know I was here."

Cage sits, contemplating.


	5. Chapter 5

"A million dollars?," Jessica Jones shouts over the phone.

"The phone is right up against my ear, babe," Luke reminds her as he walks through JFK Airport.

"They are seriously paying you a million dollars for this job?"

"They gave me half of it already."

"What about the legality of all this?"

"So far, it looks like I'm clean. There's nothing saying I can't help foreign law enforcement on US soil."

"Well, as long as this doesn't affect your parole."

"Looks like it won't."

"The hell are you gonna do with a million dollars?"

"How about a vacation... around the world?"

"Sounds good."

"I'll talk to you later, babe."

"Love ya."

"Love you back."

Luke stops and checks the flight schedules.

Zebidiah Killgrave steps out of US immigration and into the terminal, a single carry-on bag slung over his shoulder. He happily surveys the area before moving on. At the baggage claim, an older man struggles to lift a heavy suitcase onto a cart. Killgrave walks over to him and happily tells him, "Let me help you with that, sir," in a perfect American accent. He helps the man heft the suitcase onto the cart, "Oh, thank you," he exclaims and as Killgrave helps steady the suitcase, he brushes his hand across the back of the man's knuckles. A bruise appears under his left eye. Killgrave turns and walks through the terminal casually stretching both hands out as he brushes the arms and hands of everyone that passes him. As he does so, his hands become more and more splotch-filled. The passengers don't notice as they hurry past him on their way. Meanwhile, Cage stands just outside the terminal exit and checks his photo one more time as he waits.

Killgrave turns the corner, his face now covered in discolored splotches and bruises; veins appear along his jawline and temples. "Mommy, look," one girl exclaims as she points, only to be pulled along by her mother with a stern whisper, "Honey, don't point at people." As he walks, a crowd follows, seemingly on their way out of the airport. Cage checks the crowd and immediately notices Killgrave, then quickly follows him, trying his best to push past the crowd.

Killgrave stops over by an armed security guard, "Excuse me."

"Yes?," the guard turns and as he does so, Killgrave's finger brush along his bare forearm.

"Do you have the time?"

"Five forty."

"Thank you."

Killgrave moves along toward the door but Cage steps in his way, "Zebidiah Killgrave?"

"Why yes, I am," he looks at Cage closesly, "Do I recognize you from somewhere?"

"Probably."

"I think you're famous... Luke Cage isn't it?"

He ignores his question, "You're wanted by the Russian government. I've been given orders to bring you in. I prefer quietly."

"I was wondering when they'd catch up. I was afraid I'd get bored."

"Honestly, I'm surprised you're such a hard man to keep track of. You stand out. Now I know why they call you the Purple Man."

Killgrave motions toward his face, "Most people assume it's a rash or a skin disease. Thankfully, it's only temporary."

"Just so you know, I know what you're capable of. You try to touch me and I'll break your arm. Let's go quietly and let these nice people catch their planes."

"You mean these people?," Killgrave motions to the people milling about behind him.

The crowd stops on cue. Cage glances around and notices they have all turned to stare at him. "I love New York," Killgrave tells him, "Some people complain about the crowds. I enjoy them." Cage makes a move toward Killgrave but the entire crowd swarms him at once, forcing him to the side and clearing the way. Killgrave politely salutes and continues out the door as Cage pushes the people back, noticing the distant looks in their eyes as he does so. "Get back people, I don't wanna hurt you," he tells them but they continue to climb on top of him.

Outside, Killgrave quickly gets onto a shuttle bus. The driver peers around him as she notices the crowd of people inside, clustering together in an odd way. "What the hell is going on in there?," she asks. Killgrave clamps his hand down on top of hers and smiles, "Just drive." His face becomes even darker.

Cage crouches down, carefully planning his next move and springs into a highjump, using his super strong legs to propel him over the crowd, making sure not to hurt anyone. He lands a few feet away and cracks the tile floor before he makes his way to the door. The crowd turns, a few of them lunging for him and grabbing the back of his shirt; as he continues to run, he drags them behind him as he goes. A moment later, several bullets bounce off his shoulder, forcing him off-balance as he trips and falls straight through a glass door and onto the sidewalk outside. He rolls along the broken glass and jumps to his feet where he finally notices the security guard with a semi-automatic gun. "You gotta be kidding me," Luke grumbles and dashes to the side as more bullets zip past him. He steps onto a bench and leaps into the air, landing right in front of the guard, then snatches the gun away from him with enough force to roll him along the ground. He breaks the gun into several pieces over his knee and dashes out into the street. Once he leaves, the people in the airport blink and come to their senses as they try to make sense of what just happened. The guard is the last one to rise to his feet and seems just as perplexed.

Inside the shuttle bus, Killgrave's face clears up, most of the bruises and dark veins disappearing. The bus pulls a sharp u-turn; inside, the passengers almost fall out of their seats as they scream in terror. Killgrave happily stands behind the driver who continues to steer. Cage, still in the middle of the road, turns and sees the bus heading for him but has no time to move as it slams into him, sending him into the air where he falls toward an oncoming car. Cage lands against the windshield, nearly shattering it before rolling off the hood. He doesn't stop and immediately pops back up on his feet and runs after the shuttle bus. A car swerves out of the shuttle's path and curves back toward Cage who jumps, places a foot on the hood and the next on the roof, then springs off the top, launching himself into the air; he lands on the roof of the bus, nearly caving it in as the passengers continue to scream. The bus sideswipes another car as it passes into a tunnel. Cage swoops down to the side and puts his fist through a window in an attempt to grab Killgrave who leans back with a smile, "Whoa, didn't see you there." The driver swerves into the concrete wall of the tunnel, bouncing Cage into the air again as sparks, metal, glass, and granite fly. He flips over the top and manages to hold onto the roof by digging his hand into the metal. The passengers turn their attention to the ceiling as Cage begins to tear through the roof. He pulls back just enough metal to be visible, "Don't worry people. I'm gonna get you out of here." Killgrave glances at Cage and turns his attention back to the driver.

The bus flies out of the tunnel, destroying the tollbooth in the process. It then flies onto the highway, knocking a car out of its path and making it fishtail before coming to a stop. The car behind it can't stop in time and ramps off, then lands on its side. The shuttle meanwhile, drives onto an exit ramp and speeds up. Cage finally manages to drop inside the bus among the passengers, "Killgrave, stop this bus now". Killgrave nods in compliance, "Okay." The driver slams on the accelerator as the shuttle goes up the ramp toward the metal railing overlooking a long drop to the highways below, then it smashes through the concrete and metal, throwing everyone in the bus onto the floor before it comes to a stop. The front end dangles off the edge and lurches, threatening to fall over completely. Killgrave casually opens the door, holds onto the side as he stretches his leg over to the broken railing. Once he's there, he quickly throws himself over it and onto the ramp to safety. This sudden movement makes the bus shift even more. "Oh, sudden movements are not a good idea," he calls back to the bus as Cage glares at him through the window. "Everyone to the back of the bus," Cage tells the passengers as they move toward the back. He opens the emergency door and hops out. The bus lurches again and he desperately grabs the rear bumper, "Hold on!". The bus begins to tilt, pulling Cage along with it. He grunts and pulls as hard as he can, stopping it from going over. "Hurry people!," he yells and the passengers carefully begin to step out of the bus one by one. Cage strains his muscles as he pulls the bus, the rear tires slowly rolling back. The driver remains in her seat, unconscious from the impact, however. "The driver is still in there," one of the passengers calls out. Cage's veins throb as he pulls harder, the front of the bus gradually making it back from the edge. "Lady, if you can hear me, you gotta get out of there now!," Cage shouts. The driver sits up and rubs her head. As Killgrave walks away, he looks back with a smile. The driver slowly stands up and with the shuttle now safely on the ramp, Cage steps back, allowing room for her to exit. "Okay, you're alright," Cage tells her, "Just come on back to us. We'll take a look at you."

Instead, the driver steps out of the door. Realizing what is about to happen, Cage quickly runs around to the front of the bus, "No." The driver steps toward the broken railing and looks down at the highway below. Cage runs toward her, "Snap out of it, lady!" but it is no use. She jumps. Cage drops down after her, reaching his hand out as they both plummet several feet toward the pavement below; as they fall, Cage manages to reach the back of her jacket and pull her into his arms. Once he has a hold of her, he brings his feet down, putting a huge crater in the pavement at the same time. A car drives toward them and slams on its breaks, squealing its tires as it approaches. Cage quickly steps in front of the bus driver and places his hands in front of him. He catches the grill, putting a huge dent in the front of the car before being pushed back along the blacktop. The car finally comes to a stop and the driver shakes her head, "I didn't mean to do any of it." She begins to sob and Cage consoles her. "I know you didn't," he tells her.

As people race to the damaged bus, Killgrave calmly passes them, the last purple splotch disappearing from his face.


	6. Chapter 6

Roxxon Pharmacuetical. Jason Quartermaster and Johnah Hale sit in his office, looking over paperwork. The door opens and Zebidiah Killgrave enters, politely closing the door.

"Killgrave," Hale raises his voice.

Quartermaster sits up, "How the hell did you get in here?"

"I convinced your secretary, obviously."

"Great, so what happened to her? Is she like a vegetable now or -?"

"My power is only temporary," he sits down and takes a look around the office, "It's harmless."

"Okay, well, I thought we were supposed to meet somewhere secluded. Y'know, we can't be seen together too often."

"Exactly," Hale continues, "You realize there are two Roxxon executives in this office, right?"

"Well, if everything works out, we will only meet once. I need to know the layout of your plant."

Quartermaster glares at him, reaches into a desk drawer and pulls out a copy of the plant's blueprints, "You realize you can't walk out of here with those. I'll need -"

"I have a camera, by the way," Killgrave begins taking pictures of the copies with a small camera, "I've heard that the American arm of the Maggia worries too much but I had no idea it was this bad."

"Shit!," Quartermaster exclaims, "We can't say that word around here, either."

"Maggia, Maggia, Maggia," Killgrave mumbles jokingly as he continues to take pictures.

"You're a real asshole, you know that?," Quartermaster sneers, "Wait until we let your bosses in Russia know about this."

"I technically don't have bosses," he hands the copies back to Quartermaster, "The Maggia understands my value and they work with me. You should as well."

"Whatever," he shoves the copies back in his desk, "So how does this work? When will you break in?"

"Oh, I thought I'd take a trip around the city. See the sites. You know, I've never been to New York before."

"Just get on with it."

"The hotel I'm staying at is a nice one, I trust? I'm going to check in when I leave here."

"Seriously, is this the best we could get?," Hale snarls.

Killgrave smiles, "I can break in late tonight."

"Do you need anything?," Quartermaster asks.

"Nothing at all."

"Fine. You can leave."

"One thing you may like to know," Killgrave rises from his seat, "The Russian authorities know I'm here."

"Oh, dammit!"

"Well, they won't likely tell the American authorities. They want me all to themselves. Fortunately, they have no jurisdiction here."

"Well, that's some better news."

"But they have hired Luke Cage, it seems."

"Oh God," Quartermaster drops his head on his desk.

"When I break in, call the police as planned but make sure you hire Luke Cage as well," he tells him as he heads toward the door, "He'll be more than willing to take the case. When he comes after me, I'll deal with it."

"Good. Let's make sure of that."

"It's been a pleasure," he leaves the office.

"Freak," Quartermaster mumbles under his breath.

Hale stands up, "So it's agreed. We get Cage involved."

"So who calls him, me or you?"

"It's my plant," Hale explains, "I'll call."

Patkus sits down in Cage's office, "So Killgrave is gone?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Well, the other half of the million dollars will have to wait."

"Yeah,... Thanks, for that," Cage rolls his eyes, "Look, don't worry about this. I'll find Killgrave. A guy like him doesn't stay hidden for long. He'll make a move. I'll be ready."

"Oh, so you know when he'll turn up next?"

"Well,... No."

"Do you know where he is now?"

"Not exactly, but -"

"Do you even know his plan?"

"No, not really. No."

"So you have nothing."

"You're not exactly helping morale."

"I'm Russian. We're cynical by nature."

"I promise, Agent Patkus, I will get him. Sooner or later, I will find a lead, he will make a mistake, some piece of evidence will turn up, and I will catch him. I'm still your man and I'm still the best option you have."

"Glad to hear it, Mr. Cage," Patkus smiles and shakes his hand, "I still have some faith in you."

"Um,... Thanks."

Cage is at Jessica Jones' apartment next. He lays his head on her lap as they sit on the couch.

"So he got away?," she asks.

"Yep."

"Do you have any idea what to do now?"

"None. The guy just vanished. Almost took out half the airport in the process," he sits up, "I told Patkus everything was fine but honestly, I have no clue what to do next. What's worse is, this guy is dangerous. I think I just got a taste of what he's capable of today. Whatever he's up to, it's gonna be big."

Jessica puts her arms around him, "You'll get `im, Dudely Do-Right. You always get your man."

He kisses her, "Y'know, I think you should move in."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Maybe I was being too paranoid earlier. Y'know I really like you and I wanna take this to the next level. I'm ready."

"What changed your mind?"

"Tonight. Just now. I know that, even when I screw up and I lose my target, I got you to come home to. You keep me focused and I love you."

"I'm glad you finally came to your senses."

"Me too."

She smiles and kisses him. Then they both fall back onto the couch.


	7. Chapter 7

The Roxxon Pharmaceutical plant is a secluded building in New Jersey. It's late now. All the workers have gone home. That doesn't stop a semitruck from pulling up to the metal gate, however. A security guard approaches the truck as it parks just outside. "Excuse me," the guard asks, "Can I help you?". The window rolls down, revealing the face of Zebidiah Killgrave. He extends a single hand, "Hi. I'm here for transportation." The guard shakes his hand and looks at his clipboard simultaneously. "Well, it's pretty late and I don't see any -," he stops mid-sentence as a purple bruise appears across Killgrave's knuckles. Moments later, the truck passes through the open gate and the security guard stands off to the side, motionless.

It pulls up to the rear recieving area and Killgrave gets out. The back hatch opens and several men pour out and stand in a line. Killgrave walks along the line, inspecting each men who all have blank stares. "One more wouldn't hurt," he tells them. Soon, the security guard at the front gate joins them and he nods in approval. A few splotches disappear from Killgrave's face and he quickly turns to look back at his men. One of them shakes his head and rubs the bridge of his nose as he regains his senses. "Not yet, friend," Killgrave walks over and places two fingers at the base of his neck, quickly taking him over again, "Now, let's get back to work."

Killgrave uses the security guard to unlock the recieving area. Once they open the garage-style doors, they walk inside the plant with many of them taking dollies. Killgrave enters a number into the keypad and opens the door leading to the center of the plant. There, they find catwalks overlooking several vats of chemicals. Killgrave strolls along the catwalk casually until he comes to a door labeled LAB 42. There, he inserts a thin card-like device into the keypad and a moment later, the door is unlocked. He opens and finds several shelves filled with containers. He opens one of them and produces a vial filled with a clear liquid. Satisfied, he smiles and motions for his men to come collect them and minutes later, his men have the entire back of the truck loaded with them. As the last of the contaners are being brought out of the lab, Killgrave uses his phone to make a call.

"Uh, Hello police, I was just passing by the big Roxxon plant outside of town and I noticed a truck parked outside and a bunch of guys loading things into it," he says with a faux innocent voice, "It's probably nothing but you might wanna look into it."

He hangs up just as the truck is fully loaded and shut. "Thank you, gentlemen," Killgrave climbs back into the cab, "I'll take it from here. Why don't you wait until the police arrive?". He drives out of the plant with the chemicals while his men stay inside, gazing at nothing in particular. Not long after that, the men gradually come to their senses and look around the plant with complete confusion. Moments later, they begin to file out of the plant, only for a police squad car to pull up, lights flashing. "Get on the ground with your hands above your heads," the officer demands over the CB. The men comply.

The next day, Johnathan Hale pokes his head into Cage's office, "Luke Cage?".

"Yes?," Cage sits up from his desk.

"I'm Johnathan Hale," he raises his hand to shake, "I work for Roxxon. You've heard of us, I'm sure."

Cage hesitates for a moment, "Yeah,... Roxxon, of course. What can I do for you?"

Hale sits down, "Well, it seems there was a break in at one of our plants last night. We were hoping you would investigate it."

"I can look into it but just so you know, I'm already working on a pretty big case. It may take some time before I get to it."

"Well, this one, we thought was up your alley, y'see, the person responsible, from all indications can... uh, take over people's minds."

"What was that?," Cage perks up.

"Yeah, well, I guess this sort of thing has become more normal lately, what with people turning into big green monsters and such. But yes, according to our security guard, he was forced to help this man break in and steal an entire lab filled with our pharmecueticals."

"Tell me more."

"Well, the pharmaceuticals he stole are experimental drugs. They're designed to fight different physical ailments."

"About the guy who stole them, I mean."

"Apparently, all he had to do was shake the guard's hand and... everything got a little fuzzy after that but he was aware for most of it."

"The guard. Where is he now?"

"He's still in police custody along with the other men. The cops aren't as likely to believe the story until they see more evidence but we knew you were familiar with this sort of thing."

Cage eyes him suspiciously but finally says, "Take me there."

Later, Cage enters a police interrogation room. He sits down at a big table with the security guard at the other end.

"Hello, sir. I'm Luke Cage. Do you mind if I ask you some questions?"

"Sure. The cops don't believe me so why should you?"

"I believe you, sir. What can you tell me about this person? When he shook your hand, did you notice purple marks on his skin? Looked kinda like bruises or a really nasty rash."

"Yes? Why?"

"Don't worry, I'm gonna talk to the officers here and see if I can't get you out but I'm going to need to speak with the other guys first."

One of the men who helped Killgrave enters the room and sits down across from Cage.

"What do you remember before the Purple Man took over?"

"I was in my hotel in New York. I'm just a businessman from out of town."

"What hotel?"

"The Remmington on 9th street."

Another man is brought in for Cage to question.

"What can you tell me?"

"I'm here on vacation with my family. We're staying at the Remmington on 9th street. I was just sitting in the lobby when -"

"Did you say the Remmington?," Cage interrupts**.**

Another accomplice is brought in later.

"First question,... Are you from New York?"

"No, why?"

"Are you staying at the Remmington on 9th street?"

"... Yes?"

"Thanks," Cage quickly leaves the room.

He walks out into the hall of the police station where Hale is waiting.

"So do you have any leads?," he asks.

"Besides the security guard, all of the men were staying in the Remmington Hotel in New York. I think that's where this guy might be staying," Cage tells him, "Do you have a business card for me to reach you?"

"Uh, yeah," he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a name card, "So what's the plan?"

"First, I'm gonna put a word in to the chief and see if they can't release these guys," he tells him, "Then, I'm heading to the Remmington."

As he leaves, Hale stays behind, an arrogant smirk spreading across his face.

"It's a trap," Jessica Jones tells him as they sit in his living room, "I mean, this Killgrave guy works for the Maggia and Roxxon has ties to them too."

"Seems likely," Cage agrees as he looks at the business card in his hand, "They needed Killgrave to get his hands on their drugs but wanted it to look like a break-in so they wouldn't get blamed. Killgrave probably told them I was involved so they decided to come to me."

"That whole thing with the Remmington Hotel is too obvious."

"Yeah, they definetely want me there."

"So what're you going to do?"

"I'm going to the Remmington."


	8. Chapter 8

Killgrave parks the truck at a derelict area near a resevoir. The rundown storage shed sits alone and soon, the old, rusted lock is knocked away with a hammer. Inside, there is enough room to house the chemicals and whatever work space he needs. Later, he returns to the city and enters the "Remington Hotel". He looks around as if expecting someone and eventually goes inside with a disatisfed look. By the doors, Luke Cage stands with sunglasses and a hat. He turns away from Killgrave as he passes and speaks into his phone, "Killgrave is going into the lobby." As Killgrave passes through, Jessica Jones casually walks behind him, following him to the elevators where he gets in. "Hold the doors," Jessica calls out and quickly slips inside before they close. She rides with Killgrave all the way up and when he get out, she feints in the opposite direction but watches him go down the hall until she sees him entering his room. A few minutes later, she exits the hotel and walks beside Luke.

"Room 401," she tells him.

"Thanks, babe," he kisses her.

"I'm going to the office now. Call me when you get in tonight."

"I will," Cage goes back inside and goes to the front desk where he hands the clerk Hale's business card, "Hi, could you send this to the man in room 401? It's urgent."

"Would you like us to call him?," the clerk asks.

"That won't be necessary," he leaves quickly. The business card is flipped over as the clerk carries it away. The note on the back reads, "Come to my office tonight - 9:00." Outside, Cage quickly dials a number and makes another call. "Hello, Mr. Hale, it's Luke Cage," he tells him, "We need to talk. Let's meet at your office at 9:00. ... I know it's late but it's important."

That night, Cage sits down across the desk from Hale. Cage now wears a black jacket and gloves.

"So uh, what's all this about, Mr. Cage?," Hale asks, "You realize, I have a wife and kids to go home to."

"I know," Cage tells him, "But it's important and it was too dangerous to tell you over the phone."

"Oh," he looks around nervously, "Well, we're all here now. You can tell me."

"You seem nervous," Cage says coolly, "Anything wrong? You act as if you didn't expect me here."

"No, no. Of course not."

"Well, I'm still waiting for one other person. Then we can get started."

"One other person?"

On cue, the door opens and Zebidiah Killgrave enters the room. Hale shifts uneasily in his seat while Cage stands up. Killgrave raises his eyebrows but gives no major sign of alarm. "What... What is this?," Hale stammers. "Don't act so surprised. I've been on to you since the beginning," Cage takes a ski mask from his jacket pocket and pulls it over his face, "First, I'm gonna make sure your friend can't touch me," he snatches Killgrave by the throat and hefts him off the floor, pinning him to the wall.

"I had nothing to do with this, honestly," Hale pleads.

"Then how does Killgrave know you?," Cage asks.

"Okay, I'll tell you everything! We're both working for the same people."

"Already knew that but thanks for being honest."

Killgrave reaches into his jacket and tosses something under Cage's arm and he looks back in time to see a grenade landing against the wall behind the desk. "Killgrave, no!," Hale shouts just as it goes off. The explosion blasts the desk apart and reaches Cage, peeling the mask off his face; while Killgrave is mostly safe, Cage takes the brunt of it. The entire office goes up and a hole is blasted through the side of the building. Cage and Killgrave are thrown through the inner wall and into the reception area where they both hit the floor along with flames and debris, Cage dropping next to Killgrave without his mask or jacket and burnt holes in the back of his shirt. Killgrave props himself up on his elbows and shakes his head before turning his attention to Cage who rises off the floor. He quickly reaches out, touching Cage's bare skin and he freezes. With Cage motionless, he stirs and moans behind him, gradually picking himself off the floor.

"Ah," Killgrave staggers around the room, clutching his ears, "There's still ringing. Hold on a second," he bends over, placing his hands on his knees, "Did you know I was walking around all day with that grenade in my jacket? I honestly expected you to show up at the hotel. That was the plan but apparently you were more clever than I thought. It's good though, I would have hated to have to destroy my hotel room. It was nice," he looks at the burning hole in the building that was once an office, "It's a shame Hale had to die, though. He's already served his purpose but I know Roxxon and the Maggia will be upset with me now. I'll probably be hearing from Jason Quartermaster soon." He sits down next to Cage and takes a look at him, "As for you, well, everything is going according to plan."

A bank sits on the corner, a figure standing in front of it. Cage, now completely under the control of Killgrave looks at te bank with a blank stare and a bag slung over his shoulder. The front doors of the bank are smashed in and flung across the dark lobby. An alarm sounds off, loudly. He enters and moves swiftly to the vault. There, he destroys the lock with a punch, then slams both hands against the door which drops inside the vault, cracking the floor. Cage rips open the money drawers and starts shoving bundles of cash into his bag. After he is finished, he steps outside and goes out into the street.

Police cruisers fly around the corner on both sides of the bank and come to a screeching halt. Cage stares at them as they surround the area, the officers crouching behind their open doors. "This is the police," a voice is heard over a megaphone, "Get on the ground with your hands above your head." Cage does not comply but rather, continues to stare at them. "Is that Luke Cage?," one of the officers ask quietly.

Cage begins to walk forward. "We will be forced to shoot if you do not comply," the officer calls out and when Cage continues, they open fire. Cage is pushed back but does not fall, so they continue to unload but it only serves to shred his shirt as the bullets bounce off and fall at his feet. Once they stop, he leaps into the air and lands on the hood of a squad car, flattening it. The cops scatter as he kicks the side of the car, slamming it into the next. Officers rally behind him and open fire again, so he stoops down, bringing both hands under the front end of another squad car and quickly lifts, flipping it over end. The officers are forced to back away as it lands on top of the last cruiser. Next, he rips a door off its hinges and throws it along the ground where it sweeps the legs out from under a few officers. With the police scattered and without vehicles, he takes off down the street, brushing an officer aside with the back of his hand as he goes. Soon, he is gone and the officers regroup, alive with only a few minor wounds.


End file.
